On Her Own
by Alex Snape
Summary: Harley leaves The Joker and is thrown into Arkham Asylum for the first time. Can she last without him...or will it be the other way around? Rated M for language and sexual situations. Nolanverse Joker and Harley. Not a oneshot!
1. Chapter 1

**Not a oneshot, for once. Please enjoy and review! **

It was a very warm day The Joker woke up to, and he had gone down the stairs from the bedroom he shared with Harley to the kitchen to get a tall glass of ice water. After he had refilled it for the third time, he stumbled back up the stairs and went into their bathroom to splash even colder water onto his face. He growled loudly as the iciness tingled into his cheeks and around his eyes, washing the slight perspiration from his bare face. He picked up his glass of water and walked over to the bed where his Harley still lay on her stomach. He smirked when he noticed that she had kicked the thin sheets off the edge of their bed and small light beams that shown through their blinds were shining across her naked body.

The Joker gently sat himself beside her and moved a few strands of hair from her face. Her lips were in a slight pout and she was hugging her pillow close to her cheek. The Joker leaned over her ear and began to sing, "_Raindrops keep falling on my head…"_ He brought his glass of water over her head and tilted it a little, making the cold water crawl to the edge. "_But that doesn't mean my eyes will soon be turning red…"_

Harley squealed and quickly lifted her head, wiping the water from her eye with the back of her hand as The Joker chuckled. "What the hell…?" she murmured sleepily.

"Morning…or should I say…evening…" he replied before taking a big swig of water.

Harley groaned. "That was mean," she said with a small whine.

"Aww," he playfully cooed with a piece of ice in his mouth. He suddenly laid himself over her naked body and moved her hair away from her neck. Harley gasped loudly as she felt his cold lips meet her smooth skin and she squirmed as he took the ice between his teeth and traced long lines down her neck and between her shoulders. She heard him finally crunch on the ice and placed gentle kisses down her backbone. "Turn over, baby," he whispered.

She rolled onto her back and Harley moaned as his cold tongue met hers. He bit her bottom lip as his fingers glided down her stomach and over her hips until they found their target. Harley arched her back as he massaged her and kissed her neck. "Oh…Puddin'…" she whimpered. "Just like…that…"

She felt him position himself over her and felt him force his way inside her, making her hands grasp onto his shoulders. He let out deep grunts as he delivered quick thrusts against her, and Harley's nails dug deeper into his skin as she cried out. Soon, The Joker grabbed a handful of her thick, blonde hair and pulled her head back, greedily biting her neck as he finished with a satisfied growl.

They lay on the bed and breathed deeply, their sweat mingling within the bedsheets. He looked into her bright eyes and stroked her forehead with his thumb and grinned. She smiled back as he suddenly looked toward their window and noticed that the sun was setting. He sighed and looked back at Harley. "We gotta go to work, baby doll."

Hours later, in the dark of night, they were walking into a quiet hole in the wall Italian restaurant where they were escorted to a booth by a man with slicked back hair and a tight blue collared shirt. "Wait here," he grunted as he walked away from them, leaving them in the corner of the restaurant with stares from the rest of the shady crowd of characters that Luigi Valentino called his 'Family.'

The threatening glares were directed at The Joker while a few leers found their way to Harley's curvy body in her black and red bodysuit. Nervously, she edged herself closer to The Joker and he placed his arm over the seat of the booth and stroked her shoulder with his thumb. "Don't look so tense, Harl," he muttered.

"I can't help it, Mistah J," she whispered back. "These guys are giving me the creeps."

He couldn't help but chuckle at the irony that she was trying to seek protection from a man who was considered creepier than any Gang Land thug. "You're so cute," he said.

Harley suddenly burst out laughing, turning the heads of everyone else as a man in a red and white pinstripe suit made his way over to their table with a confused expression. "Uh… Joker?"

"Is there anyone else?" The Joker replied as he motioned for Valentino to take a seat. "Lou…this is…Harley Quinn…my…"

"Most beautiful assistant, no doubt," he said, a charming smile crawling across his face. He took her left hand and gently kissed it. "My pleasure, Miss Quinn. Might I say, the rumors are true? You really are a work of art…the Mona Lisa has nothing on you."

Harley sneered and wiped her hand on her thigh. "I hate High Renaissance," she remarked and cuddled deeper into The Joker's side as he put his arm around her waist. She gently placed her hands into her lap as the men began to talk. She knew better than to speak unless The Joker allowed her to; after all, this particular job was specifically designed by him and he just needed to round up some extra muscle. This was where Valentino and his men came into the plan.

Surround the site of the job, distract the Bat, and meet in a hidden spot the next day to split up the loot. Easy enough, but The Joker would always end up putting a permanent 'smile' on their faces and a bullet in their skulls, leaving the entire night's spoils to him and Harley. He did this to every poor sap that was thick-headed enough to think that they would be able to share anything with The Joker.

Harley looked around the restaurant and spied the only other woman in the room. She was cleaning high ball glasses behind the bar and was looking down at her work with a look of gloom on her face. Harley sighed and couldn't help but feel sorry for the poor thing when their eyes met and she noticed the faint hue of purple on her cheek bone. The girl suddenly smirked and looked away when a muscular gentleman approached from behind her and forcefully pulled her toward him where he laid a sloppy kiss onto her cheek. He walked away from her, but not before he laid a loud smack on her bottom, allowing a few of the other men in the room to let out a devious chuckle.

The girl's cheeks turned redder than the blouse she was wearing and Harley could have sworn that she saw a tear crawl down her cheek as she threw down the bar towel and quietly slipped toward the restrooms.

"Earth to Harley," came a whisper in her ear that made her jump in surprise.

"I'm sorry, Mistah J?" she said, giggling.

"You were asked a question, Pumpkin," The Joker said, his dark eyes shining into hers.

Harley looked over at Valentino and smiled. "I'm sorry, Mistah Valentino. I didn't mean to be so rude," she said sweetly as The Joker smirked at Valentino and the man in the tight blue shirt that had seated them earlier.

"I was just asking if you were a good shot like your boyfriend says you are," Valentino grinned at her. He suddenly held her hand again. "It's kinda hard to believe that delicate hands such as yours could be equipped to pull something as heavy as a trigger."

The Joker glared at Valentino's hands as they caressed Harley's and his ears burned as he began to caress her fingers.

Harley sneered again and sighed as she looked at The Joker. He winked at her and she slowly turned her head to the sleaze ball in front of her. Suddenly, she rose out of her seat and came over to Valentino's side and whispered something in his ear. He gulped and looked at The Joker, who just grinned at the now perturbed man in front of him. "That settles it, I guess…Joker. Miss Quinn…I'll see you later." he said as he got out of his seat and walked to the kitchen.

"What did you say to him?" The Joker asked Harley in a stern tone as they drove to Gotham City Bank an hour later.

"What does it matter?" Harley asked back as she loaded her gun while she sat in the backseat. He watched her move as Bobby and Sly sat in the front, trying not to listen to their conversation, as they knew that it would turn into a heated argument.

"Well, something he was doing to your hands must have prompted you to go whisper some sweet nothing in his ear," he replied.

"Oh my, God," she groaned under her breath. "It wasn't anything like that."

"Then tell me what you said."

"It isn't important. Don't worry; I wasn't…leading him on or anything…"

The Joker sighed. "Oh, sure you weren't…tart."

Harley looked over at him with a surprised, disgusted expression. "What did you just call me?"

"Tart!" he shouted back at her. "You've got some kind of balls to pull that shit in front of me, Harley!"

"Hey! I was nearly going to break his arm in half because of the sexist undertone of his question! But I didn't because I didn't want to make it worse for the job tonight! So…you're welcome!"

He stared back at her with threatening eyes. "Don't raise your voice to me, Harley," he said in an eerily calm tone. "Cuz you know, as well as anyone…that I will break _your_ arm in half."

Harley huffed and looked out her window as they continued to drive. As they all sat in an uncomfortable silence, she thought about the young girl behind the bar that was too embarrassed to even finish her job cleaning the glasses that were sitting in front of her. She could only wonder exactly what the muscular man that had degraded her in front of everyone did to her behind closed doors. Harley knew how she felt. The Joker could have a temper with her sometimes; it always came from nowhere, too.

Harley bit her lip to keep a tear from escaping her eye. Although she always tried to think of the gentler times between them, the images of certain nights, whether after a failed job or just an instant whim of cruelty, would creep back into her mind. The night he broke her nose…the morning he slammed her so hard against the bathroom counter that her lower back ached for weeks…the night he had beaten her so much that she couldn't do anything but curl up in a ball on the floor. This only made him angrier and he kicked her repeatedly in the stomach, stopping only to prop her onto her knees and pound furious thrusts into her as she cried into the carpet, her elbows beginning to burn from the friction of the fibers.

"Let me out," she demanded to Bobby.

"Excuse me?" The Joker said.

"You heard me, dammit! I want out!"

"Harley, we're almost there!"

"I don't care! I want out of here!" Bobby slammed on the brake as he heard Harley open the door. She jumped out of the backseat with her bag over her shoulder and stomped into the street.

"Where are you going?!" The Joker shouted as he caught up to her.

"Somewhere far away from you!" she yelled back at him.

"We don't have time for a temper tantrum, little girl!" He finally grabbed her arm. "Get your ass in the car, Harley."

"No! Get your hands off me! I want my life back!" Harley pried herself away from him and then felt his fist fly into her jaw. She emitted a short scream and then lifted her eyes to him.

He noticed that he had busted open her bottom lip and it was bleeding onto her chin. Harley didn't see the slight change in his expression as he began to speak. "Harley…baby…"

She spit into his face, leaving big drops of her blood to mingle with his white paint. They stared at one another until The Joker took a handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed the spit from his face. "Fine," he muttered. "Just…just…fine, Harley…if that's what you want…" He looked at her and Harley thought she saw a tinge of dejection in his eyes, but chose to ignore it when he slowly walked back toward the car.

Without looking back, he shouted to her, "You didn't have a life when I met you, Harley. Remember that…" With that, he slammed the car door behind him and drove away.

Harley trotted down the street and stopped when she heard someone closing up the local deli for the night. She didn't feel like spending the night in the streets so she stomped toward him, her gun aimed at his head. As he turned to see who was coming closer, she let her finger pull the trigger and the man fell onto the concrete, dead. She took the keys from his hand and huffed to herself, "Delicate, my ass, Valentino."

Two hours later, she awoke from her light slumber to the sound of police sirens. She opened her eyes and, from her uncomfortable position behind the deli counter, saw the familiar flashing of red and blue lights shining off the wall next to her. She had gone against the police before, but not without The Joker by her side. He always knew how to get them out of a tight situation like this. She wanted to come out shooting, but she stopped herself.

You said you wanted your life back, Harl, she thought to herself. Maybe this is your chance. Turn yourself in. That'll be the first step away from all this...away from…him.

Harley sighed and left her bag and handgun behind the counter as she slowly stood up, her hands in the air as she walked out of the store.

"Freeze, Quinn!" came the Commissioner's commanding voice. "Where's The Joker?"

"It's just me," she replied, stifling yet another tear. "I swear…search the place…just…me…" She sniffed and bit her lip as she pulled off her jester's cowl and let it fall onto the sidewalk.

Gordon motioned for his men to search the deli and he personally placed Harley's arms behind her back as he placed her wrists into cuffs. He escorted her to the police car and helped her into the backseat.

Before he closed the door, Gordon sighed and told her, "I'm…going to have to take you to Arkham, Miss Quinn. It's only…well, because of your affiliation with The Jok—"

"Quinzel, Commissioner," she said. "Harleen Quinzel."

**As I said, this isn't a oneshot. Chapters to follow. Stay tuned.**


	2. Chapter 2

Before the sun began to rise over the Gotham City skyline, The Joker had Bobby drive them back to where Harley had gotten out of the car. "She's probably hiding out in an alley somewhere," he told them as they parked the car near the deli a couple of blocks away from where they had left her. Sly and Bobby exchanged doubtful glances. If Harley were still anywhere near this area, The Joker wasn't going to give her a very nice welcome.

The Joker stepped out of the car and walked toward the deli. He saw that the door was slightly ajar and he carefully stepped inside, his gun held at his side. "Harley? You in here, Sugar?" He walked around the counter and saw nothing but a cash register and log books. He pounded hard on the register, making the drawer spring open and allowing him access to the cash inside it. He started to walk toward the kitchen as he pocketed the money, but stopped when he felt his shoe kick something. He looked down and saw Harley's handbag and gun. He gently picked it up and placed her gun inside it.

"Harley?" he called again. "Come on, baby girl. Daddy isn't angry anymore; I promise. Let's just go home and…" He found that he was just speaking to an empty kitchen that smelled like salami and stale cheese. He sniffed and smacked his lips as he exited the deli.

As he put away his handgun, he noticed the huge blood stain on the concrete beneath him and, just a few feet away, Harley's red and black cowl.

The Joker picked it up and held it with both hands. Slightly panicked, he inspected it. No blood. She must have popped a bullet in someone's head to get inside the deli to hide. That had to be it. He held the fabric to his nose and inhaled deeply. It smelled like her hair. He sighed and slowly walked back to the car.

"Oh, shit," Sly murmured to Bobby as they watched their boss come their way. "She actually did it."

"Either that," Bobby added. "Or she was caught before she could do anything. I feel sorry for the Boss."

Sly turned his head sharply to his confidant and scoffed. "Sorry? He beat the shit outta her, man. You and I both know this."

"Look at him, Sly," Bobby pointed out as he lit a cigarette. "You haven't been around this gig as long as I have. I was with The Joker before Harley ever came around. He's…changed…somewhat."

"I guess, Bob, but…" Before Sly could continue, The Joker had slammed the car door and seated himself behind them.

"Drive, Bob," he quietly commanded. "Maybe she's back at the theatre…maybe she's home already…"

Bobby looked into the rear view mirror after he pulled back into the street. He saw that The Joker was still staring at Harley's cowl that was now resting on his leg. "Sure, Boss," Bobby replied. "Maybe…"

Harley wasn't too taken with her new arrangements at Arkham Asylum. There was a small cot in her cell with only a thin sheet and a very flat pillow, and the toilet was only hidden by a small wall.

"At least I get some sort of privacy," she had muttered to herself as she settled herself on the cot, tugging at the uncomfortable orange pajamas that were issued to her.

She finally knew what it was like for her patients as she stared through her glass partition. Doctors and interns would casually walk by, take a glance and then take a long, hard stare when they realized that Dr. Harleen Quinzel was the one curled up in the dark with a number across her left breast.

"I feel like a zoo animal…" she sniffled as she stared at her poor excuse for a dinner tray as it sat across from her on the floor.

Dr. Joan Leland had come in at four in the morning to personally talk to Harley. They had been close colleagues when Harley had practiced at Arkham, and she smirked softly when their eyes had met. Harley had only hidden her face from embarrassment, and Dr. Leland let herself in with her key card.

"I hate to say this, Harleen," she said quietly. "But…I was afraid that I would soon see you on the other side of the glass."

"Way to rub it in, Joan…I mean…well, I guess I should call you Dr. Leland now, huh?" she asked bashfully.

Dr. Leland gently chuckled. "Joan is fine, Harleen, given our past. I want to help you in your rehabilitation. I know why you gave up so easily after you killed that man."

"He isn't the first person I killed, ya know, Joan," she said matter-of-factly. "I killed lots of people. I remember when I first killed someone. Stabbed him right in the temple…course he was trying to rob me…I felt so guilty…but Mistah J made…me feel better…" Her words trailed off when she found herself mentioning The Joker.

Shut up, Harl, she scolded herself as she shut her eyes tight. You're here to get over him.

Dr. Leland sighed. "Harleen, I know that you want to forget about…him. But talking about him will help you with that. We need to search the root of the problem, you know? Find out what it was exactly that made you so attached to him. After all…it's his fault you're in here…and I'm not just saying that because I'm a friend. I'm saying it because his charms were too much for you." There was a cold silence between them as they stared at each other, Harley's eyes suddenly filling with tears that were both offended and ashamed.

Dr. Leland noticed this and handed her a tissue. "It's okay, Harleen. We'll start our first session after lunch tomorrow. In the meantime, you're not going to be completely isolated. You're allowed to go into the rec room after breakfast, if you'd like. Try to keep yourself occupied until we meet."

"Thanks," Harley sniffed as she wiped her eyes. "I'm just…a little scared…some of my old patients will see me…"

"Harleen…" Dr. Leland sighed. "I'm pretty sure they've already heard. Have a good night."

After Dr. Leland had locked the door behind her and walked away, Harley blew her nose and sniffed loudly. "Maybe it won't be so bad," she tried to reassure herself.

Around ten in the morning, The Joker sat in front of the television watching the news. He munched on an apple as Bobby, Sly, and Mike were sitting at the kitchen table playing dominoes. They were to meet Luigi Valentino later that afternoon to 'split' the loot from the bank job the night before, and they had a few hours to kill before they were to meet back at the Italian restaurant.

The night before, The Joker had come home and found that Harley wasn't home when Mike met them at the door with the question, "Hey, Boss. Where's Harley?"

The Joker had stopped and eyed him. "She isn't here?" he asked darkly.

Mike gulped and looked behind him to see Sly giving him an exasperated expression. "No, sir." That's when Mike had learned what had happened from Bobby. "She actually left?" he said, somewhat relieved but a bit worried as to where she could be.

Bobby shushed him. "Ix-nay, man. The Boss is still a bit...sensitive about it."

The Joker had one foot propped onto the coffee table and he glanced at the magazines that were strewn across it. He leaned forward and sifted through them. _Fangoria, Rue Morgue, Guns and Ammo_…those were his. _Health, Cosmopolitan, Rolling Stone_…those were Harley's.

He sighed and looked at the television and nearly spit out his bite of apple when he saw Harley's old faculty picture from when she was a doctor at Arkham flash across the screen.

He turned up the volume as the newscaster read: "_Harley Quinn, formerly Dr. Harleen Quinzel, turned herself in to the police last night after she had shot Arnold Lankowitz, owner of Arnie's Corner Deli, point blank in the forehead. Commissioner Gordon stated that Quinn gave herself up quite easily and was taken to Arkham Asylum that very night."_

Gordon's face appeared and was speaking into a journalist's tape recorder, "_I know that everyone can see the irony of this situation, but I believe that Harl…Dr. Quinzel…stands a chance at making a full recovery and will hopefully help us in apprehending The Joker once and for all."_

A reporter off screen asked, "_Commissioner? Couldn't this just be part of a plan that The Joker may have devised in order to distract the police and Batman?"_

The Joker snickered at this question, but listened as Gordon answered, "_I have no doubt…that Harley Quinn…will come out of Arkham fully recovered and back on our side when she completes her therapy. I'm sorry, but I have a meeting to go to; excuse me."_

The Joker suddenly turned off the television and his men at the dinner table watched him in silence as he propped his foot back onto the coffee table and continued to munch on his apple.

After a very dry and powdery breakfast of eggs and crunchy bacon, Harley was escorted to the recreation room that was on the same wing as her cell. The orderly gently held her arm as they walked to the door. "Don't worry, Dr. Quinzel," he said as he opened the door. "Just let me know if they don't play nice with you."

Harley turned to him after he closed the door. "Thanks," she whispered and he grinned at her and walked away, nodding at the orderly that was standing at the rec room door.

She turned and was greeted by a few silent stares from the other patients in the room. Some of them gasped when they saw her, they all muttered as she walked past them, and she could have sworn that one of the men in the far corner had whistled suggestively at her as she sat herself on the sofa that faced the only picture window in the room.

"Dr. Quinzel?" came a meek voice that emitted from someone softly placing himself on the far end of the sofa.

Harley slowly turned her head and gasped sharply when she found that she was gazing into a haunting stare that was crudely stitched into a burlap sack. Harley squinted her eyes and said, "Dr. Crane?"

Crane removed the sack from his head and placed it in his lap before he lifted his eyes to her again. His youthful looks were still etched into his boyish face, but the dark circles under his eyes indicated a few recent nights of sleeplessness. "My, my…" he muttered. "Looks like a fellow doctor has…also found her way to the couch…" He chuckled lightly, making Harley force a small grin. "Oh, I do apologize, Doctor, but…I was rather shocked when I heard the news. Turning yourself in? Without The Joker anywhere in sight?" Harley turned her face away from him to hide her eyes. Crane noticed this and said, "What happened, my dear? Did he leave you gasping for air in the dust he left behind him as he made _his _get-away?" He said this through gritted teeth.

"You know what your problem is, Jonathan?" a voice behind them said. Harley looked up and saw the face of Edward Nigma, his charming smile crawling across his face as he knelt beside Harley. "You're too damn…poetic in your frustration. Leave the girl to herself. She's had a rough time as of late. Besides, I've got your bishop cornered, Crane."

Harley looked up at Nigma's face, noticing that he still had the rugged good looks that he had before he decided to carve the giant question mark onto his right cheek. The Joker had always stated that The Riddler was just trying to copy him by making that scar as prominent as his. "At least mine have a story behind them," he had scoffed to her one night as they were getting ready for bed.

Harley bit her lip as she thought of his body lying next to hers, but was brought out of her trance when Crane bit back with, "I was only trying to comfort her, Nigma." His teeth were still gritted together in a building rage. "After all, we both know what she went through _before _she was put here, seeing as how The Joker just abandoned her like we all knew he would."

"Sounds like someone's got a crush," Nigma smirked.

"That would make two of us, then, my dear Edward," Crane smiled, wickedly.

"Will you two wolves just leave her alone?!" Harley looked down into her lap, not really wanting to see which patient was trying to chime in to her torment. "Shoo!" she heard the voice demand, and Harley noticed that Crane and Nigma stepped away and went back to their chess game, and she felt a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Sorry about that, honey," said an equally comforting voice. "Men can be such dim-witted creatures."

Harley lifted her eyes and saw deep green eyes staring into her bright baby blues. The green eyes were framed by long locks of red hair and Harley smirked as she wiped her cheek. "Thanks, Red," Harley said, jokingly.

The woman, whose skin was a bright green hue that shone a dull tint from underneath her orange pajamas, giggled. "Actually, it's Ivy…but Red is fine, if you'd like."

"Ivy? You mean…Poison Ivy?" Harley smiled in wonder.

"The same. And you're…_the _Harley Quinn."

"Actually…I'd like to stay away from that name as much as possible while I'm here, Red," Harley explained as she looked down at her feet in her white slippers. "It…well, it's part of my therapy, I suppose."

"Oh, but I like it. It suits you," Ivy smiled at her as she reclined into the sofa. She played with Harley's pigtails and continued, "I've read up on you, sweetheart. You're quite the trickster. You and I know that The Joker had nothing to do with your clever ways and magnetic personality. At the risk of sounding like a stalker, I've saved all your articles and…haha…even the obituaries of some of the people you killed."

Harley giggled. "Really? Gee…I never knew I had a fan. Shows what I know, huh?"

"You know a lot, Harley," Ivy replied. "That college degree was good for something, hmm? Even if it did land you in here…oh, and don't let the others in here scare you. They're pretty harmless…if you know how to handle them. These men can be pretty easy to train."

Harley raised an eyebrow at her new friend. "Wow, you sound like you really hate men."

"No, sweetie," Ivy said, whisking her hair off her shoulder. "They just really hate _me_."

Harley giggled. "Well, I don't see why. You're very beautiful."

Ivy smiled. "Thanks. Not so bad yourself…I can see why The Joker…" She stopped herself when she saw Harley's expression change to slight sadness. Ivy grinned. "You like checkers?"

Harley blinked and smiled as she stood up with Ivy. "Sure. Who doesn't?"

Luigi Valentino really was a thick-headed asshole. No sooner had The Joker and Sly met him in the kitchen of his Italian restaurant that he began to relay his own jokes in his direction.

"You sure know how to keep a woman, Joker," Valentino quipped. "Love 'em and leave 'em, huh? I knew that was your style. Oh, now wait a minute. According to the papers…that's _her_ style."

The only reply he got was a bullet from The Joker's gun that hit him right between the eyes. Sly finished off the other guy at Valentino's side as The Joker took the duffle bag over his shoulder and casually walked out of the restaurant.

The Joker sat on the edge of the bed and stared out of the window as the sun shone high above the city. Just twenty-four hours ago, the sun had been shining into their bedroom and illuminating Harley's smooth, ivory skin before he had made love to her.

He sighed as he unbuttoned his shirt and took off his shoes. He glanced over at the sandwich he had made himself and grudgingly picked it up and bit into it. He wasn't really hungry but he felt that he had to do something to pass the time since there was no one to talk to.

He looked down at his socks and wiggled his toes, thinking of the time Harley got cold one night and had stolen them while he was sleeping. He had awoken the next morning and tickled her until she was forced to surrender them back to him. He then remembered that, later that same day, he had slammed her face first into the wall in the hallway after he found out that she had forgotten wash his undershirts.

The Joker lifted his head and stared at his sandwich. His appetite suddenly disappeared and he threw his lunch out of the window. He lay down on the bed and stared at the ceiling fan as it spun quickly above his head. He looked over at the walk-in closet on the other end of the bedroom and smirked as he remembered the night he had first brought Harley to live with him and about how she had bounced in excitement when she saw the gift he had made for her. He remembered her spending the first few nights in the closet, arranging her new shoes and trying on the brand new dresses that he had obviously stolen for her.

He sighed and looked up at the fan again. "Maybe I should…" He shook his head. "No! She made her choice…now she has to live with it! If she wants to be 'cured,' then so be it!" He curled onto his side and folded his arms to his chest. He stared ahead of him at the bathroom mirror and thought about the time he had lifted her onto the counter and made her cry out in ecstasy as he pounded into her. Later that night, he had backhanded her after she asked him a question. He couldn't remember what she had asked or what had come over him to make him strike her.

"She always had a smart mouth," he muttered to himself as he raised his body from the bed and walked to the bathroom. "Probably something like that…"

He turned on the light and pulled out a drawer and began to look through her makeup bag and skin creams. He opened a bottle of face cream that she would always put on her face to take off her paint, and he inhaled deeply and then sighed as he put a small dab on the top of his hand and rubbed it into his skin.

He heard his cell phone ring and he pulled it out of his pocket and flipped it open. "Yeah?"

"Hey, there, Jay," came Two-Face's voice on the other end. "I, uh…I heard about Harley."

"Hmm? Oh, yeah, Harley," he said, pretending that it didn't bother him that someone was talking to him about Harley for the twentieth time. "And before you ask, yeah, I'm fine."

"Are you sure, man?" Two-Face asked. "If you wanna have a few drinks to kind of…soften the blow…"

"Why does everyone think I give a shit about Harley?!" he exploded. He threw the lotion bottle into the bathtub, making a loud thud echo off the walls. "She wanted to leave, okay?!"

"Okay, man! Take it easy! I was just offering," Two-Face tried to console his friend. "I know you two have only been together for a few months, but…hey, how was I to know that you didn't really…"

"Harvey…" The Joker sighed as he set down his phone and put it on speaker. He put the lid down on the toilet and put his head in his hands. "I…sorry, man, I'm just…sick of…first Valentino, then Maroni had a few jokes, which incidentally he's lucky that we do great business together or he'd be in the ground right now…"

"Jay, think of how Harley must feel right now," Two-Face said. "She's never been in Arkham…well, not as a resident anyway. Having to go head-on against her old patients…"

The Joker lifted his eyes when he remembered exactly who her other patients had been and his ears burned with anger. "Yeah…Crane…Tetch…Nigma…fucking Nigma," he said crossly. "I remember when that asshole tried to…in her own office…"

"You did the same thing, man," Two-Face reminded him.

"She wanted me to!" The Joker stood up and screamed at his phone. "She practically begged me to touch her, the way she would look at me!"

"You mean to tell me that you didn't look at her the same way?"

The Joker paused and thought about one incident in her office when she suddenly came over to him and sat beside him on her couch. His wrists were chained and were connected by another chain that was attached to his ankles. He remembered her smiling and saying, "Will you be a good boy…if I unlock your restraints, Mistah J?"

He had smirked playfully back at her. "Do you…_really_ want me…to be a good boy?" He remembered the lyrical sound of her giggling as she unlocked his wrists and the way her lips felt as he kissed her.

He felt soft butterflies in his stomach and felt that he was going to be sick. "Harv…I really…don't feel like…going out tonight…how 'bout next week? Wait till this blows over."

Two-Face sighed. "Sure thing, man." The phone clicked off and The Joker flipped it shut. Minutes later, he was retching what little bit of sandwich he had eaten into the toilet.

Harley sat uncomfortably on the sofa in Dr. Leland's office. The air conditioner was blowing so hard that she felt that her fingers would stiffen from frost bite. Her lunch was much better than her breakfast since she got to sit at the same table as Ivy and other patients. While she and Ivy talked, mainly about films and books, Harley kept glancing down a couple of tables and would catch the eye of Edward Nigma, who would grin when she would politely smirk at him. Ivy would catch her attention again and say, "What's the deal with him?"

"Nigma used to be a patient of mine. He was removed from my care by Dr. Leland because she thought I wouldn't be very qualified for such a high-profile patient," Harley answered as she spooned at her hard mashed potatoes.

"Oh, but she was just fine with you treating The Joker?" Ivy said bravely.

Harley laughed it off, saying, "Yeah, pretty dopey, huh?" She glanced toward Nigma again and he winked at her. She turned to Ivy and said, "He tried to kiss me, you know?"

Ivy's eyes became wider. "Nigma? When?"

"During one of our sessions. It was right after I had finished my session with Mistah…I mean, The Joker."

"Ooh, scandalous," Ivy purred.

Harley laughed. "Hey, I wasn't interested, but I'll admit, Eddie is pretty…intriguing, but…well, as you know now, my heart was set on another guy."

"So, then why did he almost kiss you, then, if you 'belonged' to another," Ivy asked.

Harley's face began to droop and she stabbed at her Salisbury steak. "He…sorta…forced himself on me…caught me off guard…"

"Oh," Ivy muttered.

"He had a black eye the next day," Harley smirked. "He's lucky to be alive, really." She then remembered the next day as she had passed by The Joker's cell. He was holding up a sheet of paper upon which he had drawn a big, black question mark. When Harley stopped to look at him, The Joker showed her his fist and then playfully punched at the mark on the paper, making Harley burst out laughing. She had covered her mouth and looked at him. "Stop it," she mouthed to him, but all she got in return was a wink and a smirk.

Now, as she sat in Dr. Leland's office waiting for her first session, she couldn't help but giggle to herself as the thought crept into her mind again.

"What's so funny?" Dr. Leland asked as she closed the door behind her.

Harley stopped herself and replied, "Oh, I'm just thinking of…uh, a show a saw on the TV in the rec room. Some cartoon…"

"You like cartoons, huh?" Dr. Leland said as she sat behind her desk.

"Oh, yeah," Harley told her as she crossed her legs and reclined back.

"Was that something that rubbed off from The Joker?"

"Oh, no," Harley laughed. "In fact, that was one of the things that drew me to him. Another adult…that loved cartoons…hell, there's never anything good on TV nowadays, but cartoons are always new. You can watch the same ones over and over and always find something else funny about them."

"I see," Dr. Leland was already scribbling onto her notepad. "So, since we've easily introduced the subject of The Joker already, tell me: was there anything else that spawned a fascination with him?"

Harley was silent for a moment and then answered, "You mean…besides the fact that…he was The Joker?" She giggled loudly as the doctor stared at her, and Harley composed herself as she sat up straighter. "I never really thought about it, Joan, but…I guess…maybe it was because I was attracted to his…uh, how should I put it…his extreme way of doing things."

"Extreme?" Dr. Leland's brow rose suspiciously. "He killed people and blew up buildings. He stole money, burned it, and then killed more people. Extreme, yes…but he wasn't a very resourceful person, Harleen."

"The Joker is resourceful in his own way, Joan. Everything burns and everyone dies…one way or another."

"Did it ever occur to you that The Joker may have killed _you_ one day?" Dr. Leland poised.

Harley's face became still, but she replied, "Every single day…it went through my mind all the time…but I know that he wouldn't do it."

"What makes you say that, Harleen?"

"I was useful to him. I was always at his side, being his gun when he was out of bullets, being an extra pair of fists when we were cornered, and most of all, being the woman in his life."

"How do you know that he didn't have anyone else to be exactly what you are?"

"Because we were meant to be!" Harley shouted and then reclined back into the sofa. "Mistah J doesn't have anyone else! He was just like me! Lonely…misunderstood…we were…were…" She sighed and then meekly whimpered, a tear falling down her cheek, "Perfect…for each other…" She put her face in her hands and sobbed.

"Is perfection defined by fists to your face or blows to the stomach, Harleen?" Dr. Leland asked, still jotting down notes. She finally paused and walked over to Harley with a small box of tissues. "He lured you into his world, Harleen, because he saw how vulnerable you were. He makes sure that that vulnerability stays intact by abusing you as he does."

"He doesn't mean it…" Harley answered softly. "He just…gets these moods…and I don't help when I try to…I had to learn to give him some space. When I do…then he comes to me when he wants comfort. That's what happened to me…when I first met him…he did…the same…for me…" She blew her nose and Dr. Leland patted her back.

"You need to understand the difference between comfort and manipulation," she told Harley as she cried. "The Joker doesn't know comfort or…love…"

"Are you saying that…he doesn't love me?" Harley choked on the words that she was always scared to convey to herself.

Dr. Leland sighed and moved a strand of hair from her patient's eyes. "Harleen…I hate to say this…but, he probably has more important things to think about…at least the things that are important to _him_…and I doubt that you're one of them…"

"Oh, God!" Harley cried out as she threw her face in her hands again, letting her tears fall through her fingers and staining the orange fabric of her pajama pants.

Later that night, The Joker lay on his side in bed and stared out the window at the dull moon that was glowing onto the space that was Harley's. He had taken a few doses of Alka-Seltzer to settle his stomach, but it was still feeling uneasy and he couldn't figure out why.

He brought the top of his hand to his nose and inhaled the powdery scent of Harley's face lotion that was still in his skin. He sighed as he rose out of bed and walked over to the walk-in closet. He pulled back the red curtain and stepped inside, turning on the small lamp that was sitting on a dresser to his right.

He stepped to the space where her different colored cocktail dresses were hanging and ran his fingers over a black dress. He then looked down at her many rows of high heels and chuckled to himself. He still couldn't understand her obsession over owning so many shoes. They were even color coordinated, each one sitting underneath the dress with which they matched.

The Joker spied her handbag that he had brought home from the deli where he had found it. He rummaged through it and pulled out her jester's cowl. He suddenly felt weak and sat himself on the bench that sat in the middle of her closet, and he sighed as he lay across it, placing the cowl on his chest and stroking the fabric as he stared at the ceiling.


	3. Chapter 3

**This chapter is more light-hearted than the previous. Please review! **

**Three days later**

Harley had grown accustomed to her new routine at Arkham. At eight o clock, she had breakfast in her cell and then spent the morning in the rec room with Ivy. After lunch in the cafeteria, she was allowed to go outside in the garden and would just sit on a bench under a tree and skim through a book she picked up from the small library in the west wing. During her afternoon outings, she noticed that Nigma would walk past her quite a bit and glance over at her. She would sometimes look his way and he would grin, making Harley grin back at him but then go back to her book. Dinner would be in her cell when she came back and, for the rest of the night, she would lie on her cot and look out at the stars that shone through her window, all the while thinking of The Joker and what he must be doing.

One afternoon, while reading through an old copy of National Geographic under her favorite tree, Harley peered above her magazine when she noticed someone's shadow standing above her. She smirked. "Hi, Eddie."

Nigma beamed down at her with a wide smile. "Might I…join you, Harley? You seem so…far away."

Harley raised her eyebrow as she motioned for him to take a seat beside her. "Oh, okay, and no, I'm alright. I'm just…relaxing. Trying to fill my mind…with something else."

Nigma sighed. "I'll get right to it, Harley," he interjected rather briskly. "I never had a chance to…apologize…for the way I had acted in your office that day. It was very brutish of me but…I just couldn't control my urges. I'm working on that with Dr. Baldwin."

Harley huffed. She remembered when she was told by Dr. Leland that 'Baldy' would be Nigma's doctor after her little incident. Nigma took a deep breath and said, "You were…well, _are_…just so damn stunning, if you pardon my language. But you are…a lady. I was foolish to do that to you. I'm sorry."

She put down her magazine and grinned at him. Harley had to admit to herself that she saw remorse in his eyes. "Eddie…is that why you've been circling me like a buzzard these past few days?"

"I didn't mean any harm, Harley," he assured her. "But…I was too ashamed to approach you at first with this…and quite frankly, a little afraid, after what…he did to me after it happened."

She bit her lip and looked away. "You don't have to be afraid, Eddie. I'm not…" She looked at him again and saw that he was nervously twiddling his thumbs between his knees. She chuckled. "Eddie…" Harley gently placed her hand on his and his twitching stopped. "It's okay. I forgive you."

Nigma looked into Harley's big blue eyes and smiled sheepishly. "Thank you," he said quietly. He gently grasped her hand and caressed the top of it with his thumb.

They were interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat. When they looked up, they saw Ivy's cold stare going right through Nigma. He quickly let go of Harley's hand and excused himself.

Ivy watched him walk away and saw that he couldn't resist glancing back at Harley and smirking and waving a shy farewell. Ivy turned back to Harley with her hands on her hips. "I think you have a thing for scars, Harl."

Harley laughed. "It's just coincidence that he has a scar." She looked up at Ivy, whose brow had risen in shock. "What? I mean…wait, no, no, no, Red! I'm not…interested in Ed Nigma, okay? He's not my type."

"Mmm-hmm," Ivy sneered. "And psychotic clowns are?" She saw Harley's frown and immediately regretted her statement. "I'm sorry, girly," she apologized as she sat next to her. "Just be careful with him, huh? I don't trust him."

"I'm amazed I actually let him touch me," Harley told her. "He said he was sorry, and he looked so…sad that he had done it."

"You don't think he's actually…rehabilitating, do you?"

Harley chuckled. "Nah…the system doesn't work _that _well here. I'm a perfect example of that notion."

The two friends laughed and walked inside together as their outdoor period ended. "So, why don't you trust him, Red?" Harley asked as they reached her cell.

Ivy huffed. "I may be shifty, but Nigma just isn't like us. He's shadier than most. Take it from me, honey. There are lots of us here that run the same racket as you and The Joker did, but Nigma is usually the one that likes to weasel his way into the action..." She stopped and looked behind Harley with a confused expression.

Harley noticed and she turned toward her glass partition and found that the middle of her dinner tray held a small vase with a single rose inside. She gasped loudly and ran over to the orderly and impatiently bounced up and down. "Come on! Open the door!" she exclaimed as Ivy watched her in amusement.

"Geez," said the orderly. "I've never seen a patient that was ever anxious to get _inside _their cell."

When he finally opened the door, Harley ran to her tray and gently picked up the vase. Ivy pressed her fingers against the glass of Harley's cell and watched her as she searched for a note with hopeful eyes. The hopefulness was soon filled with confusion as Harley raised her eyebrow and showed Ivy the attached note that read, "Stunning…just stunning. –E. Nigma"

Ivy's jaw dropped. "Harley, whatever you do, don't eat that food."

"Oh, come on, Red," Harley protested. "He's just thanking me for forgiving him, that's all, right? Why would he poison me?"

"This way, Isley!" came an orderly's voice to Ivy. "I gotta go, Harl," Ivy muttered. "Good night…and don't read too much into that poor flower."

After Ivy walked away, Harley clicked her tongue. "Red…she sure is paranoid." However, Harley found that she couldn't touch her food. She owed it to the fact that her Shepherd's Pie was too dry.

**Four days later**

The Joker snored loudly as he slept on his stomach and the cool night breeze blew into the window that was open slightly. He had fallen asleep to the sound of the clock radio playing softly on the public radio station, and his face paint had smeared onto his pillow.

Suddenly, he heard his cell phone ring loudly and he grunted as he jumped. "Harley…" he groaned. "Will you get that?" No answer, and he moved his hand to nudge her awake, but lifted his head when he found that her spot was empty. He sighed at his realization and groped for his phone and flipped it open when he found it. "Harl…I mean…hello?"

"Hello, clown," came a woman's voice on the other end.

The Joker lifted his head and rubbed his eyes. "Who the fuck is this?"

"Wake up, clown. You know who this is," the woman said again.

The Joker slowly sat up and leaned against the headboard. "Is this…the plant?" he asked, smacking his lips and licking the corners of his mouth, sleepily.

Ivy sighed. "Yeah, it's me."

"Why the hell are you calling me, Ivy? I know you hate men, but that doesn't mean that you can just call around and wake them up at three in the morning. Don't they give you enough hydrangeas to make out with to pass the time in Arkham?"

"You are still such an asshole, Joker," Ivy growled.

"So, what's up?" The Joker tried to get to her point. "You heard I was single and you wanna hook up? Sorry, but I don't wanna develop a rash."

"Cut the wise-cracks, clown! I've got something to tell you and the guards are going to find me soon if you don't shut up and listen to me." The Joker only gave her a moment of silence, making her demand, "Hello?!"

"I was listening!" The Joker replied, impatiently. "God damn…"

"I have a question for you."

"Shoot," he sighed as he slid onto his back and scratched his scalp.

"Do you miss Harley…at all?" Ivy asked him with slight frustration in her voice.

The Joker really didn't know how to answer her question. "What is it to 'miss' someone?" he quipped.

"Joker…this is important."

He thought for a moment as he closed his eyes. For the past week, he had only gone on one job, he had watched more television than he was ever accustomed to watching, and his diet had been reduced to half-eaten sandwiches and protein bars. He groaned into the phone, "Why? Has she said anything about me?"

"Well, Dr. Leland is trying to convince her that…well, you don't care for her. Call me crazy but…"

"You're crazy," The Joker quickly said, chuckling.

"Shut up!" Ivy growled again. "But…as I was saying…I really don't want to believe Dr. Leland. I remember how you were when you were seeing Harley when she practiced here. She was all you ever talked about."

"She was interesting, Ivy," The Joker said. "That's all. Different…interesting…"

"Beautiful?" Ivy asked.

The Joker grinned. "Very…" he whispered. "Very…beautiful. But why are you asking me this?"

Ivy sighed. "I can't believe that I actually want you to do this for her, but…"

"Yeah?"

"You need to get her out of here, Joker," Ivy stated simply. "As each day passes and she comes out of Leland's office, her smile fades a little more and she laughs less often. She's…falling..."

The Joker closed his eyes. "What do you mean, Ivy?"

"I think…she's falling out of love with you." The Joker brought his hand up to his forehead and rubbed his temples as he sighed. Ivy continued, "As much as I…oh, what the hell…_hate _you…and I do and I think that you are completely wrong for Harley…I can see that she just…isn't Harley when you're out of the picture. You need to come get her out…before it's too late."

"Too late?" The Joker raised himself up and walked to the window. "Why 'too late?' What's wrong?"

"Shit!" Ivy cursed. "I have to wrap this up, Joker. The guards are coming back."

"What do you mean by 'too late?!'" he demanded.

"Nigma, Joker. That's what I mean. I don't like the way he looks at her."

"Nigma? Fucking…! Harley doesn't want me anyway! She told me herself!"

"Dammit! I gotta go!" Ivy said in a panic.

"Wait a minute! How the hell did you get my number, anyways?" There was a click and then silence. "Hello? Ivy? Plant? Fuck!" He slammed his phone shut and looked out of the window.

He stared into the night sky and thought about what Harley had told him before he had sent a punch to her lip. "_Somewhere far away from you!"_ The exclamation still rang in his ears and, for the first time, he was beginning to regret punching her like that in the street and wondered why he didn't just stop her from leaving. Why did he just turn around and drive away? Was he just doing what she asked or did he want to be away from her, too?

He was so confused and angry and lonely, but he didn't know what to do. She had threatened to leave him before and he threatened her back, and he never thought that she would actually have the guts to do it. Now, according to Ivy, Nigma was beginning to close in on her now that The Joker was out of the way and Harley was in therapy in order to 'recover' from him.

The Joker frowned as he thought of Nigma's sloppily, scarred face smiling at his Harley's precious features. He was probably holding her attention in conversation, quizzing her with his stupid riddles…making her laugh.

The Joker shut his eyes tightly as he dropped to the floor and sat against the wall. He felt his eyes begin to water and he blamed it on the dry air outside and he shut the window. He wiped his eyes and stared at the empty bed in front of him. He hadn't slept a full night in days and the bed sheets were disheveled and his clothes were wrinkled. He took a deep breath and stood up and walked out of the bedroom.

An hour later, Two-Face was slipping on his sleep pants as he was walking to the door of his penthouse. "Harvey, baby? Who is that?" came a woman's voice from his bedroom.

"Take it easy, doll," he told her. "I'm gonna get rid of the bum." He opened the door to find The Joker standing behind it, his sleepy eyes glazed and his makeup slightly smeared. "Jay?" Two-Face said. "Wow…you look like shit."

"Thanks," The Joker said as he let himself in.

"Uh, hey, man," Two-Face said. "Can you come back in, maybe, twenty minutes?"

"I'm just here to have that drink you offered to me last week, Harv," The Joker explained as he took off his purple coat and threw it over a bar stool. "Just give it to me and go about your business. I really don't…wanna…" He sat on the big leather sofa and placed his head in his hand and picked up the television remote. "Just come out when you're done; I need to talk to you."

Two-Face walked to his wet bar and said, under his breath, "Are you kidding me?" He poured him a quick drink and gave it to him. "I'll be right out, Jay. Sit tight."

"Sure thing, man," The Joker said as he raised his glass to him. He heard Two-Face go into the bedroom and say, "Get dressed, baby. I got company."

"Who is it?" the woman asked in annoyance.

"No questions, bitch. Just get the hell out!"

The Joker caught a glimpse of Two-Face's guest as she walked out of the bedroom wearing a tight blue dress. He raised his glass to her when he noticed that she didn't see him and he said, "Evening!"

She turned to him to speak and gasped when she realized who he was. She quickly ran out the door and slammed it behind her. "Hope you got your money's worth, Harv. She looked quick," The Joker quipped as Two-Face fixed himself a drink.

"What's going on, Jay?" he asked as he sat beside him on the other end of the sofa. "When I asked if you wanted a drink, I was thinking more of, like, meeting at a bar or something where I pick up the tab."

"I had to get out of the house, Harv," he finally admitted. "There's…no one to talk to…"

Two-Face took a sip of his drink. "Jay, what went down with Harley anyway?"

"What makes you think it's her, man?" he asked, slightly slurring in his speech, the liquor already taking effect from the emptiness of his stomach.

"Well, it's not like you ever called on me when you two were having a good time. Usually, you would be stingy in that respect."

"Harvey, I told you. Harley doesn't like for us to go on double dates with you…because she thinks that the women you pick up are all dirty skanks."

"Well…they are…" Two-Face quickly admitted. They looked at each other and chuckled. He noticed The Joker's glass was already empty. "Man, I knew you needed a drink, but damn."

"Care to top me off again, big boy?" The Joker asked with a smirk.

Two-Face laughed. "I'm almost outta bourbon."

"You never have enough, that's your problem. Got any beer?"

Two-Face shook his head. "Sure, man. I wouldn't mind a cold one…I mean it's only four in the morning."

The Joker chuckled as he muttered, "Beerios." He chuckled harder as Two-Face gave him a strange look. "Oh, it's just…this one time, we drank a lot and Harley and I woke up the next morning and she…was…so hung over. "Two-Face laughed as he sat down and handed him a beer. "Well, she wanted to get her stomach full to soak up all that beer. She felt really sick and wanted cereal. Well, we were outta milk, so I told her 'Just pour beer over it. Beer in the morning usually helps your hangover anyways.' I was just kidding, but she poured some beer over her Apple Jacks…and called them Beerios."

Two-Face nearly spit out his beer as he imagined Harley shouting out her cereal's new name before digging into it. They laughed for moment and when they caught their breath, Two-Face said, "She's pretty cooky, I'll give you that."

"Yeah…" The Joker agreed, adoringly. "I never thought I could end up with someone who was…as crazy as me…" He gulped his swig of beer hard into his throat and leaned forward as he rolled the bottle between his hands and stared at the coffee table in front of him.

Two-Face noticed his change in expression and said, "Uh…should I just get out the whole case?"

**12 beers later**

Two-Face and The Joker slouched low into the big leather sofa, both nursing a new bottle of beer and staring off into space.

Suddenly, The Joker took a deep breath and exclaimed, "I…miss…Harley…_there_! I said it!"

Two-Face grunted and sat up straighter. "That's…the first step…" he said with a slurred speech. "In admitting it…man…"

"Yeah…I know…" The Joker drunkenly agreed. "Wait…what?"

"I don't know, Jay," Two-Face said loudly. "I just know…that…you have...a good woman…who…just…up and left you…geez, I mean…what…happened?!"

"I don't know!" The Joker said, raising his hands in drunken disbelief. "She said she wanted to be faaarrrrr away from me. Wanted her life back…"

"What life?"

"That's what I said to her, Harv! She wouldn't listen. I just left her there…in the street…"

Two-Face looked at him with a confused expression. "You…left her, man?"

"She wanted to be left. She's got…issues…" He took a long swig of beer. "And it's me! I know it is…" He took a deep breath. "That woman…will do…anything for me…" He looked at Two-Face, who was nodding in agreement. "You hear me, Harvey? Anything! Would bend over backwards for me…and I…I hit her…man…"

"When?" Two-Face asked, slightly surprised.

The Joker took one final swig of beer and opened another one. "All the time…she sometimes rubs me the wrong way and I…smack her down…" He sniffed and said, "I'm just like my old man."

"Nahh! Nahh, you're not like that, Jay!" Two-Face insisted.

The Joker held up his hand. "No, Harv, I am! I did everything I could…to get away from him…ran away from home…lived my own life…how I wanted…all to get as faaarrrrr away from him as possible. But…I still became him…I hit Harley…just like he hit Mom…and now…my girl isn't home…and my girl…is being wooed by someone else."

Two-Face's eyes went wide. "Who?" he asked, and then hiccupped.

"Nigma…" he snarled. "Fucking…Nigma! He's got his eye…on what's mine…"

"Yeah…" Two-Face agreed. "On what's yours!"

"I just said that, Harvey. Settle down."

"No, Jay, no, no! Listen!" Two-Face seemed to be having an inebriated epiphany. "She's yours, man! You gotta fight for her!"

The Joker groaned. "Come on, Harv! She doesn't want me anymore. Hell, she's going to therapy…she's…falling outta love with me…"

"Ivy called you, too?"

The Joker sneered at him. "Huh? Is that how she got my number?"

"Yeah, man. I gave it to her. She called lookin' for you. Said that Harley was…disappearing…but like I was saying, Jay! She's yours! And fucking Nigma – fucking Nigma! – is trying to take what's yours!"

"Yeaahhh…" The Joker was trying to understand through his blurred comprehension.

"Jay, as long as I've known you…I mean…you…admit it! You love her!"

"Oh, come on, Harv!"

"Admit it, man! We all know you do!"

"Who's 'we?' You got a mouse in your pocket?"

"Joker! She's falling outta love with you because there's another man around her that's probably entertaining her. You know that he's been giving her roses, right?"

The Joker was silent and his glare turned dark as he stared back at his friend. "He what?" he asked menacingly.

"Ivy didn't tell you that part, huh?" Two-Face asked quietly. "Yeah, he's been giving her roses," he repeated. "And he's been taking walks with her…in that garden they got in the back of the place. He's even…put his arm around her…now, if Harley's reciprocated, I don't know. Ivy didn't say…"

"She wouldn't," The Joker said in a stern tone. "Never…never…"

"Of course she wouldn't, Jay…if she wasn't still in therapy…she would never…ever…" Two-Face sat staring blankly at The Joker, who just stared back with a look of growing jealous rage. Suddenly, Two-Face burst out with, "Look at you, man!" making The Joker jump in surprise. "You've been moping around this whole time…you show up here to get drunk…to try to drown your regrets in alcohol…you've already admitted that you miss her…but you're still here!! And watching Oprah, for God's sake!"

The Joker looked at the television and saw that the earlier screening of Oprah was replaying on early morning programming. He tried to play it off by saying, "I…like her…in that movie…"

Two-Face snorted. "What movie?"

"You know…that movie…I saw her in…about the…woman…"

"Man, you are too drunk…too even explain why…you're watching…"

"It's Harley's favorite show, okay?! Damn…"

They were silent and then they finally passed out, Two-Face sitting on the floor and leaning against the sofa and The Joker still sitting in his spot, his head leaning back and snoring loudly.

Around two o clock in the afternoon, Two-Face was startled by the sound of The Joker waking up and declaring, "I gotta get her back!"


	4. Chapter 4

**One more chapter to follow after this one. Enjoy and please review!**

**Two days later**

"Eddie, I don't think you should be putting your arm around me, really," Harley told Nigma as they sat under her favorite tree after lunch. She was trying to read a small novella from the library and kept getting distracted by Nigma's trying to get closer to her and, basically, his presence in general.

Nigma looked at her with a hurt expression. "I thought you liked my company."

"I do, Eddie, but…I really don't want everyone to think that I've started dating again," Harley explained as she put down her book. "I don't want to see anyone right now. You're very sweet, but…my therapy is just beginning and…I feel I'm starting to heal. I just want to be careful. You understand, don't you?"

Nigma placed his arm back to his side and took a deep breath. "Of course," he said quietly. "I understand completely." He sniffed and stood up to leave.

"Eddie, you don't have to go," Harley said, slightly worried that she had hurt his feelings.

"I'm okay, Harley. It's just that…I'm getting a little warm out here and I need to rest before I go to laundry duty."

Harley smirked. "Laundry duty? Since when did they instill that into the volunteer program?"

"Oh, for a while now," Nigma replied, smirking back at her. "I find it soothing. Leaves me to my thoughts."

"Is that a good thing?" Harley joked, giving him a cheeky grin.

He chuckled lightly as he turned away from her. "You have no idea, my dear," he whispered to himself as he headed inside.

As the outdoor period came to a close, Harley sat up from her bench and stretched. She saw Ivy coming her way and she shouted, "Hey, Red!"

"Shhh!" demanded Ivy. "Harley, come here!"

She pulled Harley away from the bench to the other side of the tree. "What's going on?" Harley asked as Ivy looked around to make sure they were alone.

Ivy looked at her and said, "I'm busting out…tonight."

Harley looked at her, hurt. "Oh…really? But why?"

"I try to bust out every three weeks or so," she answered, casually.

"Well, I'll miss you, Red," Harley told her, sadly. "You're really…the only friend I ever had…well, I guess, save for Mistah –"

"You're coming with me, you big dork," Ivy laughed.

Harley blinked. "What? But…what if we get caught? Where would we go?"

"Take it easy, honey. I've got a small apartment under another name. No one will ever know."

Harley sighed in relief. "So…no one knows about it?"

"Well, Harvey knows where I live, but just Harvey."

"Harvey? Why does he know where you…"

"It's a long story, Harl," Ivy interrupted. "Just be ready at ten o clock. I'll come get you."

"Ivy…I just started my therapy. I'm still not over…him…yet…"

Harley's new friend smiled. "Sweetie…when you're with me, the only important thing you need to worry about…is you…" She gently cupped Harley's chin in her hand. "Ten o clock…be ready."

Harley nodded. "Okay. I'll do it. You know? I'm starting to realize who _really_ cares for me. Thanks, Red."

Ivy chuckled. "No problem, Harl." She left Harley by the tree and began to walk inside, saying under her breath, "That, and the fact that your sweetheart won't pull his ego boxers out of his ass to come get you."

Later that night, Nigma was in the basement where the laundry facility was, and he was just about to finish another load of bed sheets when he thought he heard feet shuffling behind him. He quickly turned and looked around. "Who's there?" he called out. "Tetch? Oswald?"

No answer.

He turned back to the dryer and was suddenly caught off guard when he felt a gloved hand grasp the back of his head and slam him face first into the top of the dryer. Nigma yelped in pain and surprise, falling backwards and holding his throbbing forehead. He rolled onto his side to get up but was pushed onto his stomach, and before he could cry out for help, his perpetrator tied a bed sheet around his mouth, producing a makeshift gag.

Nigma muffled obscenities when he saw that the person responsible for the surprise attack was The Joker, now standing above him, his purple coat flowing in the air emitting from the industrial fans around the laundry machines. Nigma's breathing became ragged as he tried to crawl away, but The Joker grabbed his ankles and secured them in tight plastic ties. He turned Nigma onto his back and did the same with his wrists, and when he had made sure they were tight enough, The Joker kicked Nigma in the stomach, making him curl up into a painful ball on the concrete floor.

The Joker flipped Nigma onto his stomach again and straddled his lower back. He let him panic for a moment, but then reached out with his hands saying, "How did you get that scar, Eddie?" He pressed Nigma's left cheek into the floor as he continued to quiz him. "What's the…interesting story…behind that ridiculous scribble?" He roughly traced the punctuation-shaped scar on Nigma's cheek. "Did ya get bored in here? Got sick and tired of jackin' off every night?"

Nigma tried to struggle underneath his captor's grip, but The Joker responded by bouncing his head against the concrete. He moaned in pain through his gag. "Shh, shh, shh," The Joker sarcastically comforted. "Take it easy, Ed. I'm not gonna hurt ya…much." He paused to chuckle to himself as he pulled out his knife and put it to Nigma's throat.

"Let's have a chat, Edward, old boy," he growled as he forcefully lifted Nigma off the floor and slammed him against a dryer. The Joker stood above him and gave him a cold glare. "So…how long have you been in the laundry room gig?" He waited for an answer and then remembered that his prisoner was still gagged. He bent down and grabbed the sheet. "You scream for help…and it'll be the last thing you ever do."

Nigma coughed as The Joker pulled the bed sheet from his mouth. He took a deep breath. "A week…maybe…"

"Oh, really?" The Joker asked, feigning interest. "Funny…that's exactly how long…my Harley-girl has been here. You wouldn't happen to be 'volunteering' just so you can put your greasy fingers on her panties, now are you?"

"That's absurd!" Nigma protested. "I would never…"

"Really? Then what the hell were these doing under your pillow?"he growled as he presented a pair of red satin panties from his coat pocket and held them in Nigma's view. "And don't tell me…they're not hers…I know they are…they were a gift from me." He showed Nigma the three black diamonds that were stitched onto the left hip. His prisoner's eyes grew wider as The Joker put the panties back in his pocket and then drew his gun, eyeing Nigma darkly as he attached a silencer to it. "Start talkin'," he commanded.

"Okay," Nigma whispered. "I sneaked in here…knowing that new patients are issued new clothes…and I found the basket…with her outfit…and I …"

"Thought you'd take a little souvenir?" The Joker sneered in disgust. "Thought you'd go through another man's property?!"

Nigma was silent for a moment and then his devilish smile crawled across his face. "She isn't yours anymore, Joker," he casually stated. "She's forgotten all about you. You'd be amazed at what a tiny little pill will do to…supposed love."

The Joker glared at him. "They're medicating her, huh?"

"Oh, yes. Three times a day," Nigma grinned. "Wiping the slate clean. And when it's done…haha…she'll be mine. I've already shown her my sweet side, Joker. Only a matter of time before I get to show her my dirty side. Haha!" Nigma's high-pitched giggling echoed around the laundry room and The Joker pressed his gun into Nigma's bruised forehead, making him laugh harder. "Oooh, Joker. Why so serious?"

"You mother-fucker," The Joker whispered angrily.

"Aww, I do apologize. I guess I should have made my move before you ever did. I would have had her too…right across her desk…I would watch her as we had our sessions…playing it out in my mind…feeling her heat…hearing that cherry…_**pop**_."

The Joker cocked his gun and placed it under Nigma's chin. "You're digging your own grave, asshole."

"She doesn't have your influence anymore, Joker, and that drives you crazy, doesn't it? You're not around to 'fix' her, huh? Don't worry, old man. Uncle Eddie will make it better." Nigma gently pushed the gun away from his chin and leaned toward The Joker. "I get to smell her sweet scent every…single…day. Does it bother you…that my sheets smell like her…and yours don't?"

The Joker hit Nigma's jaw with the butt of his gun as the maniacal giggling enveloped him again. He continued to hit him as he growled in anger, and he pushed Nigma onto his side and soon his giggles became hiccups as The Joker kicked him repeatedly in the stomach.

When he stopped, he knelt down and pressed his gun into Nigma's temple, but only got a laugh instead of a plea. "What's so fucking funny?" The Joker demanded.

Nigma caught his breath and said, "Here you are…Harley's…knight in shining armor…coming to save her…hahahahaha…and…hoohoohoo…she isn't even here! Hahahaha!!!"

The Joker paused and stared at him in disbelief. He grabbed him by the collar and snarled, "What the hell are you talking about?!"

Nigma finally controlled his laughter. "She left…Ivy escaped just…haha…two hours ago…taking her new friend with her…." They stared at one another in a short, cold silence, until Nigma snickered, "Looks like I'm not the one who stole your girlfriend after all, clown! Haha!!"

The Joker threw Nigma to the ground and kicked him with incredible force in the face, knocking him unconscious and leaving him on the laundry room floor.

Ivy and Harley soon found themselves running up the back stairs of a small apartment building. "I'm on the sixth floor, Harl," Ivy whispered behind her. "Try to keep up."

"Why can't we use the elevator?" Harley panted.

"We'd be caught too easily, girl. Now, come on. We're almost there."

An hour later, Harley came out of the bathroom, drying her long blonde hair. "Oh, man!" she exclaimed. "It feels so good to take a _real _shower. I hated those community baths."

Ivy was busy tending to her plants that she had left unattended while she was away. "I've got an old t-shirt in my bedroom. You'll have to use that as pajamas." She turned to her fern and cooed, "Easy, baby. Mama's home."

Harley giggled. "Weird…" She rummaged through Ivy's closet and found a black shirt. The cotton felt soft against her moist skin and she wrapped her arms around herself and squeezed. She looked in the full length mirror that was on Ivy's bedroom door and smiled. "Things are lookin' up for you, Harl," she whispered to her reflection.

"You get lost, honey?" came Ivy's voice.

Harley giggled as she picked up her towel and dried her hair more. "Nah," she answered as she walked into the living room. "Hey, Red? When you said that Harvey knew where you lived and I asked you why just him…well, you never answered me."

"I told you," she replied as she gently pruned her daisies in her window sill. "It's a long story."

"Well, tell me the short version. I promise I won't tell." Harley plopped herself onto the sofa and put her feet on the coffee table. She sighed. "Please? I'll be your bestest friend."

Ivy chuckled. "Fine. Since you asked nicely and put up an equally nice offer…" Harley giggled as Ivy sat beside her. "Harvey and I…well, we used to…date…kinda…"

"Oh!" Harley exclaimed, turning toward Ivy. "How cute! I always thought Harvey was handsome…well, you know, even with his burns and all…"

"Well, like I said, you kinda have a thing for scars," Ivy laughed. "Anyway, it didn't last too long. Our…uh, careers, I guess…got in the way. We argued a lot…but the sex…oh boy…"

"Make up sex is the best," Harley sighed. "Mistah J and I…" She stopped and bit her lip. "Oh, man. I knew this would happen."

Ivy moved closer to her. "Hey, it's okay. It's hard for you right now, I know."

"But, I'm scared. All these days of therapy…and now I'm not doing it…and my meds…I'm scared I'll start having withdrawals."

"Harley, it wouldn't surprise me if they were just placebos Leland was shoving down your throat," Ivy joked.

Harley laughed and rubbed her arms. "Yeah…I should know better, huh? So what happens now, Red?"

"We lie low is what happens," Ivy sighed as she put her arms behind her head. "It'll be okay, though. I need to tend to my babies and you can have time to relax. Then…well, we'll play it by ear."

"I don't know. I tend to get cabin fever really easily."

Ivy giggled. "We won't be in hibernation too long. And don't worry about anyone finding this place. We'll be just…"

Ivy was interrupted by a loud knocking on her door and both women gasped loudly as Harley jumped to her feet. Ivy stood up and grabbed her wrist, leading her to the door. "Here," she said, handing Harley a baseball bat. "Use this if they try to come in."

"What?" Harley asked, shocked. "Where are _you_ going to be?"

"Back here," Ivy said, holding a wrench.

"Oh, so _I_ have to make the first blow?" Harley asked, beginning to panic.

"Harley! The papers said that you were a killer with a mallet! So, how would a baseball bat hinder you? Just use it if you feel threatened!"

"But…"

"Just go with your gut!"

The knocking came louder and Harley slowly turned the knob and threw open the door, the bat gripped tightly in her hands. "Oh, shit," she heard Ivy mumble and Harley looked in front of her to see The Joker standing in the doorway, a box under his arm.

When he saw Harley, he smiled broadly and stretched out his other arm and exclaimed, "Baby!"

For a second, Harley stared in disbelief at the man of whom she had spit in the face a week ago and of whom had turned his back on her and let her leave, obviously not caring that she spent an entire week doped out on medications and having to endure day after day of excruciating and heart-breaking therapy. Then…

"Hii-yah!" Harley shouted as she swung the baseball bat and made it land in The Joker's side.

He grunted as one of his knees hit the floor and the box dropped from underneath his arm. "Ugh…Harley! What the hell?!" Harley brought the bat down onto his back. "Ahh! Jesus Christ, woman!"

"You bastard!" Harley screamed. "How does it feel, huh? How…does…it…feel?!" She swung at him with every angry word that passed through her lips.

"Harley!" The Joker growled at her. "Stop it! I swear…OW! If you hit…STOP IT! Just one more time, you fucking harpy! AH! Son of a…" He hissed through his teeth and finally lay on the hallway floor, panting.

Ivy ran to her. "Holy hell…" she muttered as Harley put down the bat, her eyes streaming with hot tears.

They lifted their heads when they heard footsteps running toward them and saw Harvey Dent's surprised face. "What in the hell…?" he said as he looked down at The Joker, who was still grunting in pain. Two-Face looked at Harley and said, "What happened?"

Harley sniffed loudly and wiped her eyes and declared, "Ivy told me to 'go with my gut!'" She and The Joker looked into each other's eyes and Harley hid her face and ran into Ivy's bedroom, slamming the door and throwing herself onto the bed.

Ivy helped Two-Face lift The Joker to his feet and escort him to the sofa in the living room. Once they laid him down, The Joker could hear Harley's sobs coming through the bedroom door and he sighed as Ivy went into the kitchen to get a bag of ice.

Two-Face leaned over his friend and whispered, "Man…that had to be embarrassing."

The Joker gave him a vulgar gesture and closed his eyes as his muscles painfully throbbed, Harley's crying still ringing in his ears.

**The 'ego boxers out of his ass' quote comes from Joker 'n' Harley. Thanks! XD**


	5. Chapter 5

**Last chapter. Please be nice. :-)**

"Hey, Ivy," Two-Face said sheepishly as he stood by the refrigerator.

Ivy opened the freezer and started filling two plastic bags with ice. She cut her eyes at him, slightly smirking when his hazel eye caught her off guard. "Two-Face," she mumbled.

He sighed. "You know, I liked it better when you called me Harvey."

Ivy chuckled. "I liked it better when you weren't an egotistical asshole."

"Come on, Ivy," he huffed in frustration. "That was almost a year ago. You're still holding grudge?"

"Wouldn't you hold a grudge if your boyfriend ditched you during a museum heist so he wouldn't be the one to get thrown in Arkham?"

The Joker wearily interjected, "Hey! I would never do that to him!"

"Shouldn't you be eating some crow right now?" she yelled. There was a cold pause as she continued to pack ice, then she muttered, "All Harley wanted was a little respect and some room to heal. Why did you bring him here?"

Two-Face cleared his throat. "He wants her back. What makes you think that Harley doesn't feel the same about him?"

Ivy gave him a strange look. "Should I give her the baseball bat again? Would that answer your inane question?"

"Listen, I've known Harley a little longer than you have. She was made for him."

"For what?" Ivy asked, slamming the freezer door. "For a personal punching bag? For a sex toy?"

"I never said Joker was a saint, doll face," Two-Face said, calmly. "But…you didn't see him earlier today. He was so…lost, so lonely…" He approached her as she stood facing the kitchen sink and gently stroked her arm with his forefinger. "He misses her…do you have any idea what that feels like?"

Ivy stopped her actions over the sink as her breath caught in her throat. Her heart started pounding in her chest and she shut her eyes as she picked up the ice packs. Turning to him, she whispered, "Yes…I do."

They stared at one another and Two-Face placed his hands on her waist. "Ivy…" he whispered back, staring into her radiant green eyes. "Kiss me…"

"Hell, no," Ivy sneered. She gently slid out of his grip and walked to the living room.

The Joker had his arm across his forehead as he lay across the sofa. Ivy handed him an ice pack. "Here," she said coldly. As he took it, she tossed the other pack onto his crotch, making him groan in surprise. "For your side…"

"You missed," The Joker mumbled.

"No, I didn't," she retorted as she sat in the armchair across from him. She watched as a down-trodden Two-Face came out of the kitchen and leaned against the wall.

The Joker grunted as he sat up, slowly taking off his coat. "Son of a bitch," he winced as he unbuttoned his vest and then his shirt. He then placed the ice pack inside and sighed when he felt the coldness of the ice sting his growing bruise. "So, Ivy," he began. "What did you say to my girlfriend…to make her treat me a walking piñata?"

Ivy casually shrugged. "I said nothing, Joker. What did you do?"

He raised an eyebrow, knowing exactly where she was going with that question. "I'm sure you know already."

"You bastard," she whispered, angrily. "Why?"

"That's none of your business, plant," he growled. "She's not your girlfriend."

"She's my friend," Ivy declared through gritted teeth.

"For how long? A week? Wow! You're practically sisters." He paused to place the other ice pack on his right shoulder. "Harv? Where's that box?"

"I brought it in, Jay," Two-Face answered, quietly.

"Did it open?"

"Nah, it's fine."

Ivy wrinkled her nose. "Whatever it is, she doesn't want it."

"Hey, Harv. Where's that baseball bat?" he smirked as he looked at Ivy. "Kidding. I'm kidding." With an ice pack still being held to his side, he stood up with a grunt and walked to Ivy's bedroom.

"If I hear you doing anything to her, Joker," Ivy warned. "I swear, I'll…"

"You'll mind your own business," The Joker turned to her and snarled. "I know I've fucked up, Ivy. Don't make it worse."

"You don't give a damn about her," Ivy stated, darkly.

He frowned at her and licked his bottom lip. "Harvey, your ex has got quite a mouth. Why don't you keep it busy?"

"That's cold, Jay," Two-Face said.

"I'm in a cold kinda mood," he replied, taking the box from him and going into the bedroom.

He found Harley face down on the bed, and her crying had died down to quiet sniffles. She was hugging the pillow to her face as The Joker circled to the other side of the bed. He couldn't help notice that she was wearing a black t-shirt and the white cotton panties that were issued to her in Arkham were peeking out from underneath. He quickly averted his eyes and kicked off his shoes as he sat on the bed.

The Joker took a deep breath as he set the box on the nightstand and softly lay on his back beside Harley. He hissed through his teeth as his side ached with every movement, and he let his unbuttoned shirt fall open. He sighed. "I guess…I deserved that."

Harley sniffed. "You _guess_?"

He smirked and grunted again as he shifted himself closer to her. "Okay…I _know _I deserved it." He looked at her and saw that she was still hiding her face. "I didn't want to…leave you…in the street like that…"

"Correction," Harley replied. "_I_ left _you_."

The Joker nodded. "Yes, you did. But I let you leave…and I…I really don't know why…" He heard Harley try to stifle more tears and he reached over and stroked her hair, but she gently pulled away from him. He sighed again, "Will you look at me, at least?"

She slowly lifted her head and set her cheek on the pillow and The Joker could see her eyes had grown red and her cheeks were flushed likewise. "There's my girl," he whispered.

"I'm not your girl anymore, Joker," she told him coldly.

He felt a lump in his throat as he heard these words, but he swallowed it down and licked his lips. "Oh, really? Why is that, Harley Baby?"

"Don't call me that," she said. "I'm not your girl anymore…because I know now…why you really want me around…"

"And why's that, Sweetness?"

"Stop it! You're just trying to manipulate me, like you've been doing all along."

The Joker gave her a confused look. "What in the hell are you talking about? Where did you get that psychoanalytical bullshit?"

Harley sniffed. "Dr. Leland. She helped me…"

"Really?" he asked raising a suspicious eyebrow. "Wasn't she the one who always reassigned your patients to other doctors? I thought she didn't like your…method…so that's why she always reported you to Arkham…saying you 'fail to follow institutional guidelines.'" He paused, waiting for a retort from Harley and when she didn't respond, he continued, "Sounds like I wasn't the one who's been manipulating you…"

"Why are you here?" she asked abruptly.

The Joker grunted as he shifted onto his side, facing her. "Because…you want me here."

"No, I don't!" Harley's voice rose slightly. "I don't want you anymore! I don't need you!"

"If that were true, then you would still be hitting me with that bat," he pointed out.

"Maybe I should have kept on hitting you, then."

"But, you didn't…"

"Well, _you do_!" Her voice broke and new tears began to run down her cheeks.

The Joker's expression sank and he replied, "Harley…I know…what I do to you…I don't know why I do it, but…" He hesitated as he licked the corners of his mouth, and then said, "I told you, Harley, when we first met, that I can't be…cured, so to speak. No one can change who I am, what happened to me, or what I do…I thought you…of all people…understood that."

Harley hid her face in the pillow at being reminded of the promise she made to him; the promise that was made the night she gave herself to him.

"_Puddin'?" she had whispered as she clung to his shoulders, their bodies moist from the physical bond they had made._

"_Yeah, darlin'?" he panted, smiling._

"_I love you…just the way you are…"_

_He had sighed and given her a deep kiss. Then, pulling away and stroking her hair, he said, "You'd be the first…"_

"_Can I be the only?" she giggled._

_He smirked. "Sure. No one else can compare to you, anyway."_

"Hey," she heard his voice calmly call to her. "Don't ever hide that beautiful face."

Harley slowly lifted her head and looked at him. He had edged himself closer and she noticed the ice pack on his side. She reached out and gently lifted it away from his bruise and gasped quietly. "Oh, Puddin'…"

He chuckled. "See what you do to me…literally?" Harley couldn't suppress the soft giggle from her throat and he grinned. "You do need me…and you still love me."

Harley stopped giggling and cleared her throat. She bit her lip as she looked into his dark eyes that were shining into hers. "D-Do not…" was all she could stammer over her quivering lips.

"Oh, but you do, baby," he said, running a thumb gently over her full bottom lip. He desperately wanted to kiss her at that moment, but he resisted.

"How do you know…I still love you?" Harley asked, challenging him. "How do you know that I don't hate you now?"

"You could never hate me," he said. "I know that…despite the fact that I…treat you the way I do…_I _could never hate _you_…"

Harley sniffed at the sound of his words and she tried to resist the lure of them as she replied, "Well…I do…I don't…love you anymore…"

There was a silence and The Joker leaned further into her and caressed her cheek. He put his forehead to hers and whispered, "So, why…after this whole week of therapy…and after the big fight we had…after admitting to me, just now, that you don't like…what I do to you…did you still call me 'Puddin'?"

Harley's quivering bottom lip wasn't strong enough to hold back the quiet sob that emitted from her throat. The Joker didn't move from his position as she started to cry again; he lay still, with his hand on her cheek and their foreheads touching. He took a deep breath and said, "I'm going to say something…that I rarely say…so please listen to me…"

She pursed her lips together and calmed herself as he continued, "I rarely say this, Harley," he repeated. "Very…rarely…but I feel you deserve it…just like I deserved a bat to the ribcage…" She looked into his eyes, which were now glistening as he gazed upon her. "I'm sorry…I'm sorry I do this to you…I'm sorry for what I did to you…what I may do in the future…but please know…that I can't be changed. This is me…this is…who you love, right? True, I'm no Romeo or Casanova…but, to be honest, the theatre is so lonely without you…if you don't need me, then I'm fucking lost…because I need you…I never realized that…until the moment I turned around, got back in the car, and left you in the street with a bloody lip."

He paused to reach behind him with a grunt and brought the box between them. He opened it and Harley's tears dripped onto the contents inside. She saw her handbag with her gun still inside along with her bodysuit and cowl. He cleared his throat. "I'm not gonna make you come back. I just wanted you to hear what I had to say. I'm not perfect…and I don't deserve someone like you."

"I'm not perfect either, Puddin'," Harley whimpered.

He snickered. "I know…that's what makes you so damn adorable." She giggled through her tears as she picked up her cowl. The Joker swallowed the lump that was rising in his throat again and said, "So, I went to the asylum…to bust you out…and all I found was that you had gone already…with your new friend." He gritted his teeth at the word. "But I found your suit. So, you keep it with you…because if you still feel the need to be on your own for a while…then you have what you need. You can come back when you're ready…or don't come back…it's up to you. I'm not gonna force you out the door and into the car like I tried to do a week ago."

Before she could reply, he lifted himself off the bed and slipped on his shoes. Harley sat quietly on the bed as she watched him button his shirt and vest. He readjusted his tie as he walked toward the door and just as he was about to exit the bedroom, he turned to her and said, "Oh, but, whether you come back or not…I'm keeping these." He pulled out her pair of red satin panties from his pants pocket, and Harley threw her head back with a loud laugh.

He chuckled as he put them back in his pocket. He put his hand to the doorknob until, "Puddin?"

He turned to find that Harley had shot up from her place on the bed and had bounced over to him. She hesitated and then gently placed her soft lips against his and gave him a tender kiss. He sighed when she pulled away and said, "I'll see you later."

The Joker smirked and finally opened the bedroom door, leaving Harley to go back to her spot on the bed and put her tear-stained face into her cowl.

"Come on, Harv," The Joker muttered as he walked to the door. "You may need to drive me home…I'm still feeling that beer."

Two-Face followed him but turned and looked at Ivy one last time, who just smirked and waved. He returned her gesture and closed the door behind them.

Ivy rose from her place on the sofa and walked into her bedroom where she found Harley looking toward the window. "You okay, hon?" she asked softly as she sat beside her and stroked her back.

Harley lifted her head and sniffed back tears. "Yeah, I'm fine. Look. He brought me my stuff. He told me that I didn't have to come back if I didn't want to."

"Oh," Ivy replied. "Well…are you? Going back, I mean?"

**One week later**

"Harley!" The Joker shouted as he rummaged through his chest of drawers. "Have you seen my socks?"

Harley sat up in bed and looked at the clock and saw that it was six in the morning. She covered herself with the bed sheet and sighed, "Your socks?"

"Yeah," he said as he walked toward her. "Are they clean? I can't fuckin' find them."

"Oh, Puddin'. Such language."

"Let's not get started on 'such language,' baby doll," he said as he checked under the bed. "Seriously, do I have any socks?"

"Baby, I always make sure that your shirts are ironed, your coat is clean and, most importantly, that you always have your favorite pairs of socks."

The Joker stood at the end of the bed and put his hands on his hips. "Good for you, sweetheart. Now, where are they?"

"Oh, they're…around," Harley shifted her eyes mischievously, biting her lip while suppressing a smile.

He cocked his head and raised an eyebrow. "Harley?" he purred. He grabbed the bed sheet and yanked it away from her, and she giggled as she brought her knees to her chest and gave him a big smile. He smirked and playfully scolded, "Harl…give those to me."

Harley played with the checkered fabric of his custom socks that were on her feet and then tucked them under her bottom. "Give what back, Puddin'?"

"Harley, Daddy doesn't have time to play," his voice began to grow darker as he crawled toward her on the bed. "Come on; I need them."

"You gotta catch me first!" She sprang from her position and bounced toward her walk-in closet.

The Joker tried to grab her, but she was too quick. Frustrated, he growled, "Harley! Come on!"

She giggled as he chased her into the closet where he was finally able to corner her on the chaise lounge that was in the middle of the room. Her giggling stopped when he grabbed a handful of her hair and forced her to sit down, making her squeal.

Her smile faded as he roughly cupped her chin. "Little girl…" he said. She tried to pull away. "Look at me," he snarled. She obeyed and The Joker sighed; "Now…you know that Daddy has a job this morning, right?" She nodded. "Good…but you start to play around with him when you know that he has work to do. You disobey him and you know how much that makes Daddy mad, right?"

Harley whimpered as he lifted her by the handful of hair he still grasped. "Come here," he said, pulling her closer and letting go of her chin and instead holding one of her wrists behind her back. "You've gone too far, precious."

She looked at him, pleadingly and whimpered as his grip grew tighter. Suddenly, he put his lips to her neck and began to blow raspberries into her skin, making her shriek as it tickled her. "Ahh! Daddy, no! Hahaha! Stop!!"

The Joker continued to tickle her on the other side of her neck and she began to squirm in his grip. "Puddin'!"

He stopped and pulled away. "What? What is it? Why are you screaming?"

She laughed. "It tickles!"

"Huh?"

"That tickles! Stop it!"

"Give me my socks, and then maybe it won't tickle so much." Harley just stared at him, biting her lip. He shrugged. "Have it your way."

He knelt down and held both wrists behind her back and blew raspberries into her stomach, making her scream louder. "Okay, okay!" she finally surrendered. "I'll give them back!"

The Joker looked up at her and smirked, "I dunno. I really like to hear you scream."

"Take them!" Harley laughed.

He let her out of his grasp and she took off his socks, still laughing as she handed them to him. "Good girl," he said, taking them and then kissing her cheek.

After he had put them on, he grabbed Harley just as she was walking back into the bedroom and pulled her to his lips. They kissed deeply and he smirked as he caressed her cheek, "I missed that laugh."

Harley giggled and kissed him gently as they held each other. "I haven't laughed in a while."

"Oh, man," he said. "That's a scary thought…even for me." He grinned at her as she stroked the scar on his left cheek. "By the way…have you seen my tie?"

Harley bit her lip. "Uhhh…"

He raised his eyebrow. "Harley…"

She made a break for it to the bedroom again, but was brought down onto the bed by a slew of noogies.


End file.
